


bodys

by worthageatrois (palisadespalisades)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palisadespalisades/pseuds/worthageatrois
Summary: i know that i don’t talk a lotbut i know that you don’t care a lotas long as we move our bodies around a lotwe’ll forget that we forgot how to talkevery other wednesday, like clockwork, ryan gets antsy. shane wants to — no,needsto know why.(spoiler alert: he's horny.)





	bodys

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to say shameless pwp but there is indeed some shame involved in writing this. please be gentle with me! this is my first time writing smut in... 4 years. jesus.
> 
> also, ryan is trans. this is anatomically accurate and representative to the best of my abilities.
> 
> if you're looking for music to go with this, i've been listening to car seat headrest, kevin abstract and harry styles while writing.

_ (is it the chorus yet? _ __  
_ no. it’s just the building of the verse _ _  
_ __ so when the chorus does come, it’ll be more rewarding.)

Every other Wednesday, Ryan got antsy.

Shane had started to notice this months ago — he knew, sometimes, Ryan got a little jittery. Even after they started working on Unsolved together, he hadn’t realized that there was such a  _ routine _ to it. But after a while, he’d started noticing things about Ryan. Just little things, like how he took his coffee, and how he wore different shoes depending on his mood, and how he liked to go for runs when he was stressed.

And every other Wednesday, he got antsy. It was almost like clockwork. He would get up and walk around — to the coffee station, to the bathroom, just a quick jaunt around — at least once an hour, if not twice. It was worse in the afternoon. He wouldn’t eat at lunch.

Shane was mostly curious. Ryan had a lot of energy, but this was above and beyond. It was abnormal, and while Shane appreciated, for the sake of his sanity, that there was a kind of rhythm to this abnormality, it was still — it was out of the ordinary, he couldn’t explain it. And that was annoying. It was like a little tick in his brain, eye twitching every time Ryan left his desk. Ideally, Ryan  _ wouldn’t _ get antsy in this way. He wouldn’t jiggle his leg until it sounded like such a jackhammer Shane had to put his headphones on. He wouldn’t tap on his keyboard without typing like he was writing some kind of incomprehensible Lorem Ipsum nonsense. But, at the very least, Shane could know  _ why _ he got like this.

He was mostly curious, of course, but there was a little part of him that was concerned. Concerned that Ryan wasn’t able to get work done. That it would get in the way of something important sooner or later. After all, every other Wednesday, not being able to focus in the least — that was a lot of time lost, a lot of work not done. That could interfere with their editing, his research, recording, shoots; it was reasonable for Shane to worry things wouldn’t get done like this. And an even smaller part of him was concerned that something was wrong. Something was making Ryan worry, something was making Ryan anxious, something was upsetting him — or something else, maybe. Maybe it was anticipation, or excitement. He was waiting for something, or maybe even for some _ one _ , and this part of him, however small, shouted louder than the rest of his thoughts about Ryan’s Restless Wednesdays. If it  _ was _ Ryan waiting for  _ someone _ , or even just a thing he was doing, it wasn’t anything he’d told Shane about. If he was dating someone, or going somewhere, it was a part of his life that Shane was locked out of. And it wasn’t like Shane would  _ care _ — they were friends, of course. Best friends, even. But if Ryan had a crush on the barista at the Starbucks who worked Wednesday evening shifts, or if he had doctor’s appointments on Thursday mornings, then he hadn’t told Shane, and a part of Shane’s mind traitorously interpreteda this as  _ hiding _ it from him.

So he noticed Ryan got antsy, and he almost wished he hadn’t, because it had become such a point of obsession in his “mildly-interesting-events-calendar” that it was starting to drive him as crazy as it seemed to drive Ryan. It didn’t help that the Wednesday in question, the Wednesday he’d decided to dwell on these feelings of unease, Ryan was worse than usual.

It was right before lunch. Ryan had stood up several times, looking as though he was going to leave, go somewhere — and then he’d sit back down again, back to browsing through footage mindlessly. It was annoying, bordering on vexing, because they had to finish a video to go up Friday, and they weren’t nearly done. Ryan was slowing the whole thing down with this bullshit. And Shane had had it. Quietly, he vowed to himself, next time Ryan stood up, he would confront him about it. What was going on in his personal life wasn’t really Shane’s business if Ryan didn’t want to tell him about it, though he’d felt that they were close enough that Ryan could, but it was starting to interfere with his work which, quite literally, was his business indeed.

It took several more loops before Shane could force himself to follow. Ryan had gotten up, and actually had taken several steps, before turning to Shane as though to say something. Instead of speaking, he had turned around, headed back to his desk, and without even bothering to sit, turned around and started walking again. Shane stood, several of his long strides outpacing Ryan easily. His legs were, at best, unmanageable, but they had their perks.

Placing a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, he bent to speak to him quietly, voice low as he spoke. “Let’s talk. Privately.”

Ryan swallowed and nodded, taking Shane’s arm and pulling him into a secluded hallway. After a beat, just peering up at him, he spoke, landing somewhere in trying to sound pleasant and failing, instead producing a nervous kind of hiss. “What’s up?”

“You’re acting… weird.”

Ryan frowned, brows knitting. “I’m always weird.”

“You are.”

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t know, man, you’re just… You get antsy.” Shane jammed his hands into his pockets, and glanced up, breaking the steady eye contact. It was harder than he’d imagined, confronting Ryan about this. It was awkward, and neither of them were strangers to that, but even so, he was finding it extremely unpleasant.

Ryan’s brows rose in surprise, mouth parting in a slight ‘o’. “I am, huh?” he asked, running his hands over his face.

“Yeah, like. Every other Wednesday, like clockwork. It’s… kind of annoying, I guess? Distracting. And you can’t get work done. I guess I just wanted to see what’s up with you.”

He broke into a crooked smile, turning a little red across his cheeks, to Shane’s surprise. It was… cute. Very cute. He didn’t answer, though, after a beat, so Shane kept rambling — he couldn’t help himself. “You know, if something’s up, you can tell me. We’re buds. More than just, like… ghouligans. I’m your pal for real. Even if it’s just a crush or something.”

“God, okay, you can stop.” Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. He was still combing his hands through his hair — another nervous tick. “Okay, here’s the thing. I do my T shot every other Thursday morning. And by Wednesday afternoon…”

Shane breathed out a sigh of relief before Ryan finished. It wasn’t something bad, or someone else (and he tried not to think about the strange wash of relief when he confirmed it wasn’t a crush). He was probably just… nervous for his shot, or something — though Shane had vague knowledge that, at almost 28, he’d been doing this for nearly a decade, so nerves seemed a bit off — after that long, even Ryan would get used to it, wouldn’t he?

“By Wednesday afternoon. I get,” he paused again, cheeks reddening even more. Shane raised a single eyebrow — whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine how it could be this embarrassing. “I get, like, inconsolably horny. It’s just a hormone thing, but it’s distracting. As you can imagine. Like the feeling of a perma-boner, for hours. It’s draining, even.”

He hadn’t expected that. And, in the matter of a few words, his perception of the past few months had changed entirely. Ryan wasn’t anxious, he was  _ aroused _ . And, even if it was embarrassing and frustrating for him, Shane couldn’t suppress his thoughts of how hot that was — jiggling his leg, getting up to walk around, all of the fidgeting. All that time disappearing. He wondered, for a brief moment, if Ryan had ever rubbed one out in a closet. He dismissed the thought quickly, though. Even if he was into his colleague and friend in a way he wasn’t able or ready to address, he wasn’t a creep, and wouldn’t think about his best bud masturbating, especially not to his face.

Ryan wasn’t looking at him anymore, his whole face lit up bright red, eyes wide and pointing to the ground. It was an infuriatingly endearing way to react to telling Shane that he had spent hours sitting beside him, too randy to think. Shane had to react, he knew — though it didn’t seem like it, it had to have been a stressful admission to make, one that made Ryan vulnerable to — humiliation, he supposed.

“Should’ve just grabbed me for a quickie in the bathroom. Problem solved.” Shane blurted. He snorted, before realizing Ryan wasn’t laughing at all. He was thinking.

“You’d be up for that?”

“What?”

“Like,” Ryan mumbled, face in his hands again, “like a friends-with-benefits set-up, I guess. A quick fuck so I can actually focus.”

He hadn’t expected that response at all. Not that Shane had actually thought about what he was saying before he said it, because he wasn’t, in the least, but — he thought Ryan would shove him and laugh it off, not  _ this _ . At the same time, though, he didn’t… dislike the idea. Ryan was hot, and Shane would be a fool if he thought he wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to him. They had good chemistry as friends, and he was certain they’d have pretty good chemistry in that way, too. And they cared about each other, in a way that superceded any sexual desires — in a way, it kind of made sense.

And Ryan was hot.

And he was into Shane. He wanted to have  _ sex _ with Shane, supposedly, based on this proposition.

Shane didn’t overthink it. “Hey, why not.” If he overthought it, he’d talk himself out of it, and if he was being entirely honest — it had been a while since he’d gotten laid, and the idea of a low-key fuckbuddy, something casual and quick, sounded pretty good at this point. He glanced at his watch, and quirked his lips. “I don’t think we have time to head to either of our places on our lunch, though…”

“Well,” Ryan said, glancing leftwards. “There’s a single stall bathroom right here. It’s pretty big. Big enough for both of us.” And, just like that, Shane opened the door, and with a quick glance behind them, to make sure nobody saw them, they ducked into the bathroom. Ryan headed in first, and pulled Shane behind him.

The door slammed shut, and Shane searched for the light switch. When he flicked it on, it dawned on him how wildly unsexy this whole situation was. As nice as the Buzzfeed offices were, it was still a bathroom. The lights flickered above them, casting unflattering shadows.

Still, looking at Ryan, Shane’s heart twisted in a way that wasn’t entirely platonic. He was so —  _ endearing _ , he supposed, shifting nervously across from him. It was an interesting thing about Ryan, how he managed to look so strong, so confident, stern face and set jaw and ultra-masc appearance, but so open, so  _ vulnerable _ at the same time. It was one of Shane’s favourite parts of him. And, of course, he was undeniably attractive — a kind of masculine beauty to him, in his clenched jaw and set brows and strong arms. Like anyone else, Shane had his insecurities, but he’d come to terms with them. It had been a long time he’d felt so inadequate, standing across from a partner.

Realizing they’d been standing in silence for a long moment, he forced himself to try and break the tension. “This is like some kind of bad porno, huh?”

Ryan snorted. “Yeah. Two horny bros fuck in the office bathroom!”

“Next unsolved mystery: how many kinds of sex can you have in five and a half square feet?” They both started cackling, barely smothering their laughter, before realizing someone in that hallway could definitely hear them if they listened — that set off more laughter, Shane choking it down, Ryan covering his mouth with his hand. “Alright, okay. Uh. How d’ya wanna start, then?”

Ryan swallowed thickly. “We could make out?”

“Alright,” Shane replied, and leaned down, fingers grazing Ryan’s jaw as he tilted his head up. They kissed, softly and slowly — familiar and new all at once, exploring how they slotted against one another, and how easy it seemed to be. Ryan tasted like coffee and toothpaste, just a hint of sweetness. Shane bumped his nose against Ryan, and he pulled back for a moment, snickering.

Still, he looks down at Ryan with a little wonderment at how  _ good _ it was. Making out with someone for the first time was rarely good. It was awkward, nerve-wracking, a little uncomfortable; for them, it was all of these things, but it was still distinctly good. And it was hot. He wasn’t wrong in thinking they’d have good chemistry.

“You need to do something about that big fuckin’ honker.”

“Do I?”

“No.” Ryan was smiling and blushing, looking messy and tousled in the best way. He went in for another kiss, brief but not at all chaste, tender as he moved down his throat. He pressed kisses into Shane’s jaw through the beard fuzz, strong arms wrapping around him as he moved to his neck. He unbuttoned the top button of his flannel and pressed a kiss to Shane’s collarbone, spreading the shirt open so he could nip and bite at it. Shane’s hand instinctively went to his mouth, biting down on his fingers, smothering a moan. “Easy to please, huh? Wish we weren’t at work — I’d love to hear you.”

Shane breathed in sharply, and realized he had a chub already — if he didn’t take control of the situation soon, he would embarrass himself, coming in his pants like a teenager. Besides, it was Ryan who needed this, much more than he did.

Pulling away for a moment, he took another deep breath to calm himself before leaning back down, pulling Ryan in for another hungry kiss. This time, he took the lead, hands trailing down his sides, slipping under his shirt. He felt the ridges of Ryan’s hips, firm and muscular, running his thumbs over them and down towards the waistband of boxer-briefs. He ran his index finger along the elastic, slipping it below slowly. Breaking their kiss for a moment, Shane whispered to Ryan, voice low and breathy. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking heady and a little dazed. Between kisses, Shane moved quickly, unbuckling Ryan’s belt and undoing his jeans. Shane found himself a little dumbfounded by the whole situation — he had fallen into this so easily, so readily. He’d never seriously considered Ryan before as, well, anything more than  _ Ryan _ . His best friend, his ghost-hunting partner, his co-host, his biggest supporter. But this transition felt almost natural — like it was the next step in their relationship, like this was where it was headed anyways. In a way, it wasn’t more than Ryan. It was just… him.

Ryan helped him shimmy his jeans down a little, and Shane shook his head. It felt so high school, jamming his hands down another guy’s pants to give him a handy. A bathroom was better than a janitor’s closet, but not by much. He dragged his fingers down Ryan’s v-line, taking in how defined it was — he knew Ryan was in shape, but he hadn’t realized the dude was  _ sculpted _ . Slowly, painstakingly so, he slipped his fingers beneath the band of Ryan’s underwear. He paused for a moment, hand still down Ryan’s pants. “Should I… go get lube?”

Ryan wheezed, breathy and fast. “Little late for that. Spit?”

“Aw, man. I’m not gonna spit on my hand. That’s so porny.”

Pausing for a moment, Ryan drew Shane’s hand out of his pants, bringing it upwards. Leaning down a bit, he parted his lips, still holding Shane’s gaze up through his lashes, and slowly started sucking on Shane’s fingers. He always thought that move was a little contrived, but his mind was changed — watching Ryan take him in his mouth, swallowing each knuckle easily, through fluttering lashes in some perverse twist of innocence… it had to be one of the hottest things Shane had ever seen.

After a few seconds, Ryan pulled away. “Good to go, then?” His voice sounded a little rough, a little raw.

Shane nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He slipped his fingers below Ryan’s waistband once more, this time going lower — he felt Ryan’s clit, erect and straining against his boxer-briefs. He was already wet. Shane started stroking his clit slowly, thumb circling across the top. His gaze was steady on Ryan’s face, watching him tilt his head back, clenched fist against his mouth to hide it parting, trying to smother a gasp.

He slipped a finger into Ryan’s cunt, shallow and slow, still working his clit as he did so. Ryan was hot and wet, and Shane had to bite back a curse, just thinking of what it would feel like around his cock. Ryan gasped again, a shaky ‘fuck’ in Shane’s ear. He was hot, and getting to touch him was hot — but the most satisfying part of this, what was making his dick strain against his pants and kept him chewing on his lip, trying to choke back moans, was how he was pleasuring Ryan, how  _ good _ Ryan was feeling. His satisfaction was the best part. Shane had always felt, in sex, it was best for him when he was topping; he liked doing the work, being the active partner, entirely honed in on making whoever he was with feel as good as possible. This felt like that, dialled to a thousand.

Ryan was pushing against him, hips twitching, fingers shaking as they moved across his shoulders, down his sides, to his mouth in a clenched fist and through his hair. He looked as though his knees could give at any moment — almost to where Shane wanted him. Dipping his head again, he whispered to Ryan. “Can I eat you out?”

Ryan nodded vigorously, but Shane waited for a verbal yes. He pulled his hand out from Ryan’s jeans, thumbing his hip bone again as he did. “Yeah, God. Fuck. Please,” Ryan whimpered as he let Shane shimmy his jeans down. Taking a breath, he boosted himself onto the sink counter. “God, I can’t think about how gross this is, this fucking bathroom.”

“Don’t,” Shane said as he kneeled, slotting himself between Ryan’s thighs, knees over his shoulders. He took a moment, just taking the sight in. His happy trail, the downy hair covering his thighs, muscular and flexing in anticipation. He ran his thumbs across Ryan’s inner thighs, glancing up at his face. His brows were knitted, shoulders bunched — Shane had noticed that Ryan drew in on himself when he was tense. He wanted to make him feel loose, unclenched, absolutely falling apart. Slowly, delicately, he thumbed at the lips of Ryan’s hole, feeling his legs twitch. “This feel good?” he asked, and waited for Ryan to nod. When he got the response he was looking for, he leaned in, pulling Ryan’s clit into his mouth and sucking gently, savouring the feeling of Ryan shaking and writhing above him. He felt his own cock straining against his pants. Even without Ryan touching him, he was close to the edge. Ryan’s legs wrapped around Shane’s neck, hands threading through his hair. He scratched at Shane’s scalp, breathing shakily as he did.

His tongue swirled against Ryan, and he slipped a finger inside his cunt, massaging him. He yanked Shane’s hair in response, hissing out a slow ‘ _ yes’ _ . Shane moaned against him — he hadn’t thought he was into hair-pulling, but when it was Ryan, it was somehow… incredibly sexy. If he had thought Ryan was antsy before, he hadn’t seen anything then — he was bucking against Shane, hips twitching in every moment, incredibly responsive to anything Shane did. “I—I think I’m close,” he choked out.

Shane inserted another finger, mouth and hand moving faster and faster. He slipped his free hand down his own pants — coming in his pants, at this point, was unavoidable. He was just embracing the inevitable. His cock was full and incredibly sensitive; he stroked once, twice, thrice, barely able to control his own hips jerking.

They came together, in near-perfect synchronicity. Shane allowed himself a moment of pride for his timing skills — he made Ryan come pretty quickly (his previous horniness notwithstanding). Ryan leaned back on his elbows as Shane disentangled them, moving forward to pull him into a rough kiss once he rose from his knees. His hands threaded through Shane’s hair, tugging slightly, and Shane felt him grin against his lips.

“Thanks,” Ryan said when he pulled away, wearing a crooked, tired smile. He took several deep breaths, looking spent and satisfied, before sliding off the counter, shimmying his jeans back up.

“No problem,” Shane replied, a little bemused by how casual their whole post-sex exchange was. He pulled his hand from his pants, and cringed when he realized the aftermath of coming in his pants — he did indeed have cum in his boxers. “Aw, gross.”

Ryan wheezed a laugh, clapping Shane on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re going commando, big guy.” Shane glanced at his watched — Ryan was right. Not enough time to go home and change. “You’ll be alright.”

He was already preening in the mirror, trying (and failing) to smooth out his hair and unwrinkle his clothes — even if he managed, which he didn’t, he couldn’t wipe that post-sex satisfaction off his face. Something in the pit of Shane’s stomach, more tender than lust and more affectionate than intended, was proud to put that expression on him, even if it was just going to trigger unending amounts of office gossip and mockery. He knew he himself looked dazed and rumpled.

As Ryan went to unlock the door, and Shane resigned himself to ditching his boxers and freeballing, he paused. Shane hadn’t had time to really consider whether they’d do this again, and it seemed Ryan had a similar thought when he’d turned around. “So… that was fun. Top five lays at least.”

“Top five?” Shane replied, tone slightly mocking. “Oh wow, really?”

“Hey, considering we’re in a fucking office bathroom in the middle of the workday, I’d say that’s pretty good. I can bump you down for attitude.”

“You can bump me down anytime.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Wanna… keep doing this?”

“I’ll block off an appointment in my calendar. 20 minutes, two weeks from now?”

“I was thinking sooner, but if you want to wait, that’s your prerogative.”

That made Shane backtrack quickly — he hadn’t really expected Ryan to want to turn this into a full FWB situation when he’d yanked him into the bathroom but, in the same breath, he absolutely wasn’t complaining. “No, no, sooner sounds great.”

“Alright, well.” Ryan turned to leave, before pausing again. He took a step towards Shane, then a step towards the door, and a step back to Shane again.

“I thought we did this to stop you from being so… antsy and weird.”

After a beat, Ryan slapped his ass, groping it for a moment before he pulled away. “Weird, sure. Antsy, nah. I was just trying to make up my mind — if I wanted to see if anything was there or not. More than I expected.”

As he opened the door, Shane shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” he mumbled at Ryan’s back.

Ryan glanced behind him, cracking a goofy grin. “Think I can get a ‘Sasquatch is real and I fucked him’ hat now? You’re basically one in the same, right?”

“I think you’ll have to actually fuck me to get that. Come on, put your money where your mouth is.”

He rolled his eyes, still wheezing. “I’ll put it on the agenda. Have fun with your cumpants, big fella.”

“Yessir,” Shane replied, as Ryan closed the door behind him.

He took a moment to take stock of the situation, standing alone in the bathroom. So: he’d fucked his best friend, with unforseen and unconsidered consequences. He had cum in his pants. He was dazed from the fuck, and probably would be a little hazy for a few hours at least — he wasn’t seventeen anymore.

But, at the very least, he’d had a good time.

And Ryan wouldn’t be so antsy anymore.

_ we can get real horny / and keep messing around _ __  
_ we can keep real quiet / won’t be making no sounds _ __  
_ i’ll try my best / not to touch your face _ _  
_ __ next time can we / please meet at my place?

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think in the comments or at andrewilnyckyjhateblog on tumblr! thanks for reading!


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